31i 



TUE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



October 



my youug mau. 'E's been and took up 

 with Mile. Leouore, what does the 

 trials of streugth, aud I wauts to bring 

 'im back to me. You give me the per- 

 skiption aud I'll ask the galipot to 

 make it up. I was sure as you'd know. " 



The scholar felt quite sorry for her 

 when he realized the disappointment he 

 was about to inflict, she smiled so pret- 

 tily aud looked so pleased. He shook 

 his head. Then he said gently: "I'm 

 afraid I am quite unable to help you iu 

 this matter. I know nothing of such 

 things; neither do I believe that they 

 can have the smallest effect." 



"But I thought you was always 

 a-studyin ancient days, " said the girl 

 in an argumentative voice, leaning for- 

 ward in her chair. "Do think — in some 

 of them old books" (waving her hand 

 iu the direction of the book lined walls). 

 "Ain't there somethink in some of them 

 old books?" 



"I fear not," said the scholar almost 

 sadly. She was so eager, so' much iu 

 earnest. The girl drew herself up iu her 

 chair and said abruptly: 



"I'm a honest girl, I am." 



"That I am sure you are, and there- 

 fore you need no love philters. Believe 

 me, you are quite pretty and good 

 enough to inspire love, an honest love, 

 without recourse to magic." The schol- 

 ar spoke persuasively. His voice was 

 very gentle and his manner courtly. 

 The girl winked her wide blue eyes 

 and made a little swallowing motion 

 with her throat. Then she coughed and 

 continued. 



"My father's brought us up strict, 'e 

 'ave. 'E doau't 'old with swearin for 

 woman, and if we was light 'e'd lay 



the 'orsew'ip about our shoulders, e 

 would. 'E's clown in our show, 'e is." 



There was silence for a minute in the 

 big library. Then the scholar said gen- 

 tly: "Why do you want a love philter? 

 Is the — man you areengaaed to fickle?" 



"Well, 'e runs after Mile. Leonore, 

 and I oan't stand it, and I rates 'im, 

 aud 'e laughs at me, aud I'm beastly 

 miserable, I am. " 



The girl's voice broke, and great 

 tears rolled down her cheeks. The 

 scholar was much distressed. He was a 

 very learned mau and instructed in the 

 best wisdom of many lands, but he had 

 also studied diligently a book that it 



requires no great erudition to under- 

 stand, but only, what is quite as rare, 

 a humble heart. A certain saying iu 

 that book, "But thou hast mercy 

 upon all aud wiukest at the sins of 

 men, because they should amend," 

 came into liis mind, and the trouble of 

 this poor circus girl was very real to 

 hiu). She wiped her eyes with a gayly 

 bordered pocket handkerchief aud said: 



"What would a lidy do?" 



The scholar pondered for a moment, 

 then said diffidently aud with extreme 

 shyness: "I think that she would not — 

 show that she minded; tliat she would 

 try to be always sweet and good tem- 

 pered and gracious, above all to Mile. 

 What 's-her-uame. Don't let him thinJj 

 himself so precious, my child. We aM 

 value what is hard to obtain. He's toJ 

 sure of you or he wouldn't tease you. 

 If you are wise and if he is worth hav- 

 ing — if he's worthy of you and of youi 

 good father — you'll find that all thil 

 nonsense will come to an end as a talo 

 that is told. " 



It was a long speech for the scholar 

 to make. He flushed a little as he made 

 it, and the circus girl gazed at him ad- 

 miringlv, exclaiming: 



"You are a knowin old cove." 



The scholar shook his head aud said 

 humbly: "I fear I am ignorant in these 

 matters. I have only known three wom- 

 en intimateJy iu my life — my mother, 

 my wife and my daughter." 



"Is that what your daughter did — 

 the young lidy as is just married?" she 

 asked eagerly. 



"I don't kuow what she did," an- 

 swered the scholar gently. And indeed 

 it was true, for the engagement had 

 come upon him as a bolt from the blue 

 while he was thinking of Phyllis as 

 Btill in pinafores. 



"Was she very 'ard to please?" per- 

 sisted the girl. 



Had Phyllis been hard to please? the 

 scholar asked himself. He did not 

 know. It had not taken long to please 

 her, anyhow, so he said, "I don't know 

 if she was hard to please, but I know 

 that whatever she did was right and 

 sweet and womanly, and you can do 

 all that yourself, my dear." 



"I wish I was a lidy," sighed the 

 circus girl, "but father says as one can 

 be as good a girl in a troop as if one 

 was a Scrinture reader, 'e do. I see as 



